The Shadows Of Our Hearts
by NikkiJP
Summary: Lately, Derek's been looking like nothing but his own shadow. And there, covered in Stiles' blankets, one sock-cladded foot hanging from the edge, he looks whole again. Or as whole as he can be, until he stirs and blinks his eyes open to look up at Stiles. And he breaks again. Breaks into a million tiny pieces no one can put back together.


The Shadows Of Our Hearts

Derek's face is the one thing that comes to mind when he thinks of the word trust. It means something entirely different to Stiles than it does to Derek. For Derek it's being able to rely on someone when you need them, to have someone's back. But for Stiles, it's listening to all the crap one has to say, to keep all the secrets they might spill.

That's why he's here, three a.m. on a school night, watching Derek sleep in his bed.

After all the shit that went down, Stiles doesn't really sleep at all anymore. He goes to bed but he stares up at the ceiling until the sun tells him to come back to life. He has the feeling it's the same for Derek, that's why when he found him there three hours ago, he let him sleep.

Derek looks peaceful like that. Wrapped up in the moonlight coming from Stiles' window. He probably shouldn't look like he belongs there, but he does.

Maybe that's because lately, Derek's been looking like nothing but his own shadow. And there, covered in Stiles' blankets, one sock-cladded foot hanging from the edge, he looks whole again. Or as whole as he can be, until he stirs and blinks his eyes open to look up at Stiles. And he breaks again. Breaks into a million tiny pieces no one can put back together.

"Hi," Stiles says, and it makes him feel dumb, because Derek is looking at him like he's trying to figure out why Stiles is in the room too. Like he doesn't really mind it all that much in the first place.

"What are you doing here?" He asks instead of answering. And he has to look away from Derek's gaze. It's stupid because he's never once turned down a staring contest with him before. But then again, the actual stare has never quite been so intense.

"I couldn't sleep."

Like that's a reason. Like that explains why Derek shows up in the middle of the night just to lie down in his bed. The question is why. If Derek couldn't sleep, why did he come to Stiles' room? He should probably ask that too, but he's afraid the answer will make him feel that what he's been trying to hide away for so long.

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

And that look is back on Derek's face. Filled with sympathy and concern and a whole bunch of other things that Stiles shouldn't ever be able to discover in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Derek asks.

It comes to mind that Stiles maybe also looks like his own shadow. Like he's been broken and beaten until he couldn't possibly fix himself anymore. But then again, he kind of is. When it comes down to it, they're all broken, not bend, not really.

Every one of them, him, Derek, Scott, Isaac, Lydia. They're all so much, that they're nothing in the end.

"I could've killed you, you know," He says instead. And it's not about tonight. It's about the time with the wolfs bane bullet, about the time in the pool. It's about all the times he had Derek's back, when he didn't have to, when he could've just left him to die. "So why would you come here, Derek?"

Derek sits up, determination clear on his face but he still looks so tired. Stiles thinks he could sleep a hundred years and still be exhausted. Peace doesn't exist for them, not anymore. Not even in the dead of night, when there's a seventeen year old boy watching you sleep.

"Because you didn't," he says. "Because I trust you."

It's a slap in the face, really. It's like watching your favorite movie and you know who's going to die and when and how, but it still makes you cry. He knows Derek trusts him, he knows because Derek would've left him for dead a million times too if he didn't.

"Just get in the bed, Stiles. You don't have to say anything."

And he stands up from the desk chair and changes into his sweatpants and he listens to Derek because. Because he's always done that. Because he's put up fights and acted like an asshole but he always listens in the end. And Derek's told him to shut up so many times, but he's listened to Stiles back just as much.

"I trust you, too." He says when he climbs in to the bed. Derek doesn't say anything. He just nods and pulls Stiles against his chest, like he belongs there.

Maybe he does.

There's so much out there that they haven't seen yet. So many battles that they have yet to fight. So many monsters that'll keep him awake at night. That'll keep them all awake at night. But Stiles closes his eyes for the first time in what feels like months. He doesn't stare up at the ceiling, doesn't wait for the daylight to make him feel alive again.

He doesn't sleep, either. But Derek does. Stiles listens to his heartbeat against his back. Hears it speed up when Derek has a nightmare. Hears it slow down again when he finds Stiles' hand. But Stiles keeps his eyes shut the entire night, and it's not much progress, but it _is_ a step forward. The first of a long road.

When the daylight does come, eventually, it's still early. Not time for him to go to school yet, not time for him to open his eyes yet.

"Good Morning." Derek whispers. And when he kisses Stiles it feels like the most normal thing in the world. When he curls on top of Stiles and rests his head on his chest, it feels right. It's trust, for once. For once something that won't break them even more.

"Good morning, Derek." He says back. And he does open his eyes then, and he watches their shadows dance in the sunlight. Watches them figure and shape, and mold into something complete. Something whole, at last.


End file.
